Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Most uncooperative Dylan is....


Three days ago Dylan punched me right in the nose in the Walmart parking lot.
It really, really freaking hurt. There were people sitting in their car right across from mine, and there are cameras everywhere in that parking lot, so I couldn't properly beat him discipline him at the time.
I just said very meanly and quietly: "YOU DO NOT HIT!"
Then I put him into his carseat and buckled him up, shut the door and nearly collapsed into the car, exhausted and injured.
Good lord, that child is wild.

Yesterday we had to go into the post office (I go at least twice a week now, they know and hate us) and Dylan refused to wear his shoes. So he's running around in the tiny post office lobby barefooted picking up all the nasty post office grime with his assuredly sticky and stinky feet.
Then we had to walk down the length of the mini-mall to the yarn store (not a place for children at all) and he refused to walk. By then I had wrangled shoes back onto his feet.
So he laid down on the sidewalk.
When I let go of his hand, he jumped up and ran the opposite direction. I caught him, picked him up and he kicked me square in the belly. His budding baby brother kicked him right back, though I was the only one who felt that.

Of course, he continued to be a holy terror in the store so I thanked God I only needed to get one thing and that it was right in the front of the store.
I paid for my yarn and we got the heck out of there.
I had only been out of the house with these children for MAYBE an hour and I was already exhausted. It was noon and I was ready for a nap.
Both of them fell asleep in the car on the way home, though oddly, when I put them into bed, they refused to continue sleeping.
Thankfully, Dylan is still in his crib, so he had no choice. Elizabeth took her customary three minute time out and returned to action annoying and bugging me with her constant chattering.
No seriously, it's irritating.

"Mom, what are you doing? What are you looking at? What is Dylan doing? Do you think Daddy is at work? Will he come home after work? When will he come home after work? Will it be dark? Is it dark now? Why does it get dark? When does the sun come back? Why does the sun come back? I'm going to go pee now. I'm peeing on the potty now. I'm finished peeing. I'm flushing my pee. I'm going to change my pants. What pants should I wear? Here's ALL MY PANTS FROM THE CLOSET. Which one is the best. You're wrong, that one is not the best. This one is the best...."

And so on and so on and so friggin on.

LiveBlog:
Now they are messing with the area fan, plugging and unplugging and saying "aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh" into the blades while it runs...sigh.

4 comments:

Amy said...

Huh. Yesterday at the gym I was reading an article on how to discipline your kids. That got me thinking what I will do when my children throw tantrums in the food store. Walk away from them on the count of 3? Make them apologize to everybody within earshot for making so much noise? Make them apologize on the intercom to the entire store for being a brat?

And now, after reading this, I think the best discipline is no discipline - as in, don't have kids so you don't have to worry about discipline!

Maribeth said...

What a bad day. You need a time out! Don't know how you can get one but I will be praying you do! Your story exhausted me. Hang in there!!!!

eaf said...

I really dislike how familiar this sounds. It's one of the many reasons I can't seem to bring myself to stay at home.

Jessica said...

Ugh. Today was the bloodwork at the hospital for Elizabeth's surgery.
I had a flash of whipping brilliance and strapped Dylan into a stroller for the trip into the hospital. He of course hated it and bucked like a bronco. He was trapped though. The only weapon he had was his horrible shrill screaming.
((((Shudder))))
I'm sure people thought I was performing experimental surgery on him without anesthesia. But I wasn't. I just wouldn't unbuckle him and let him roam the halls of the hospital.
Afterward because Elizabeth was so good for the blood draw, I let her pick out a lunch spot. She called my bluff and picked Denny's. But Dylan was surprisingly good. He spilled nothing, got barely ketchupy around the mouth and didn't throw french fries at anyone around us. He didn't even really bug the people in the booth behind us. I was so proud.
Good days, bad days.
Sometimes all in the same day.
He's resting now. THANK GOD!